


gemini

by starletscarlet



Series: lineage in error. [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Bullying, Codependency, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Growing Up, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Incest, Twins, bad home life, fluff if you squint, rating just to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starletscarlet/pseuds/starletscarlet
Summary: theirs has always been a bond of one soul split in two.time and time again, the tanaka twins turn to one another.
Relationships: Kori Tanaka/Kyari Tanaka
Series: lineage in error. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1823605
Kudos: 2





	gemini

On one of the last days of Kori and Kyari's eleventh summer, clouds hang heavy in the sky and insist on obscuring the sun. 

Though there had yet to be any rain, the dissipating sunlight had preemptively put an end to the twins' day. It wasn't like they'd really been doing anything of note; they'd ridden their scooters all around the neighborhood, then to the corner store to pick up sodas, then to the park to race without running the risk of getting in the way of any oncoming cars. Regardless, they'd still been having fun, and what fun was there in having to head back home after another supposedly 'good' summer day had changed its mind? 

At least, Kyari seems to think so. But Kori, ever the more practical one of the pair, reasons that they might as well get home. They'd been out for the majority of the day, so it wasn't like it had been entirely wasted. Besides, he'd been itching to get back on their Minecraft world anyways, while they've still got the free time to put some more hours into it, and Kyari admittedly couldn't argue with that logic. 

So the twins had set back out towards home, wheeling their scooters alongside them lest a sudden downpour were to dampen the sidewalk, minds that were more often than not in sync turned to the subject of the inevitable. In only a matter of two weeks, the twins would be entering sixth grade. Though it was a concept met with mixed fanfare by most of their classmates, abuzz with the anticipation of being that much more 'grown up' but none too happy about yet again being at the bottom of the pecking order, neither of the twins could say that they were much too excited about it. 

Maybe it was because they already had more than enough insight into the reality of it; having four siblings before them ensured that they'd heard their fair share of tales on the matter, whether horror stories or offhand remarks about some vague instance or another. Or maybe, an equally likely hypothesis, it had much, if not everything, to do with their positions as the social pariahs of Mrs. Bateman's fifth grade class, and consequently every other fifth grade class at their school as well.

No one liked the 'weird twins', and they'd known that full well. It wasn't like anybody had outright bullied them, but Kori and Kyari weren't stupid. Picking up on others' subconscious cues, knowing how to read into every gritted-teeth 'smile' and stilted nicety and peel back the layers to decipher what was truly meant, was an ability gained in their household right alongside first words and first steps. The other girls would never directly tell Kyari they couldn't stand her to her face, but not once had a single slumber party invitation found its way into her desk or amidst the cluster of notebooks in her backpack, even when it seemed every other girl had found themselves in possession of a pastel colored envelope. Likewise, there never came a time where Kori would be picked for any team during P.E., still _reluctantly_ at that, without it first having come down to either him or another boy who couldn't take more than two steps without falling over himself and costing his team the point. They'd heard the 'jokes' at their expense, snickers that silenced themselves when they drew too close only to begin again. Their classmates preferred to keep the twins at arm's-length, at the _closest_.

With so many of those aforementioned classmates bound to attend the same middle school, it'd be a miracle if their experience there wasn't the same. The twins can only hope that such a slim possibility still somehow rings true.

"Maybe having seven classes won't be so bad." Kori suggests hopefully, an attempt to quiet both his sister's nerves and his own. "At least we won't be stuck with the same people all day."

" _Maybe_." Kyari acquiesces, though she isn't entirely convinced. Sure, maybe it would be nice to have the reassurance that if, somehow, they managed to have a class with every other kid from their old school, it wouldn't last _forever,_ but the idea is still troubling in its own way all the same. "But that still means-"

"-we're not gonna be _together_ all day either." Kori finishes the statement for her, a smidge of anxiety at the concept evident in his tone. The twins had never had to be in different classes, not even once, since they'd started school. Their normal routine had always more or less consisted of spending the entire day together; waking up in the _same_ bedroom, heading to the _same_ school, sitting in the _same_ classroom at the _same_ table. There was nothing that they detested more than the concept of separation, not even the mocking echoes of their classmates' voices. Maybe elementary school had been a dreary experience, but at least if they had nothing else, they'd had the guarantee that they could always stand at one another's side. Now, that much wasn't even certain.

"They better give us all the classes we picked." Kyari huffs, briefly taking one hand off her scooter to tuck back flyaway strands of flaxen hair. "Then it'd just be one class where we don't see each other, until we get to try out for Vocal Ensemble."

"You think we'll actually get in?" Kori wonders aloud, squinting to look at his twin in the sunlight that, albeit having mostly disappeared, remained yet too harsh for the lightness of gray eyes. 

"No shit, we _have_ to." Kyari insists. "None of the other chorus classes are mixed. You wanna stay with just the boys for three whole years?" 

Kori's lack of response works just as well for his twin. "Exactly."

"I'm gonna have to practice a ton, then. Otherwise I _know_ I won't make it." Kori relents with a sigh, earning him a quizzical look from his sister.

"How come?" Kyari asks, the sound of rolling wheels over concrete lulling as they slowed their pace. 

"You _know_." Kori responds, none too happy to be on the subject. "Ms. Prentiss always said I was too quiet. I'm not gonna make the cut if no one can even hear me."

 _"Ugh_. Ms. P was just being a bitch; she can't even sing!" Kyari rolls her eyes, briefly placing her hand on her twin's shoulder. "We're both gonna make it. Besides, Nova says the chorus teacher's supposed to be really nice anyways."

"Even if the teacher's nice, he's not gonna let me in an advanced class if I can't sing." Kori rarely argued against Kyari, but in this case, the ever growing list of worries in his mind far superseded his usual amenability. Kori couldn't help but be so nervous about pretty much everything, and Kyari knew as much. Still, it bothered her to see him so down about something so small. It was simply the way the twins had always been; if one of them had an issue, the other one would quickly set about trying to resolve it. As unbearable as it was to be upset, it was doubly so to see their sibling that way.

" _Kori."_ Kyari snaps, frustrated. "Yes, he will, because you _can_. This isn't fifth grade anymore; everything's gonna be different. Don't worry about it." 

"Okay..." If Kori's truly convinced or not, neither of them seem to know for sure. Regardless, the argument ceases there, when the twists and turns of the sidewalk finally lead them to the familiar slate gray of home.

* * *

Sixth grade had been fine, for a while. As fine as it could be, anyways; the twins' schedules worked out to ensure they at least shared a lunch period and a few classes, but they were none too happy with the periods in between. As expected, their previous classmates had ended up also being in attendance, but any attention that would've been directed towards the twins was instead focused on trying to navigate ever changing class schedules and the novelty of a much larger campus.

The first few weeks, really, had flown by uneventfully. The twins had yet to make any new friends, but they'd become comfortable with their relative obscurity. It was much less risky to keep to themselves, pairing up before their teacher had even finished telling the class to pick their partners and sitting alone at the far end of the lunch table, than it would be to put themselves out there and try. Their own company did them just fine.

But as everyone began to finally find their footing, they also found they were in need of something new to occupy their time. Little by little, it seemed that most of the sixth grade's eyes had turned to _that_ pair of siblings.

( _"They don't talk to anyone but each other." One girl would whisper to her friend with a raised brow, eyeing a corner of the cafeteria._

_"He never says anything." A boy would scoff incredulously as he turned back to the rest of his group during gym class, when a question as to whose team Kori was playing on merely earned him a point in response._

_A girl tapped her pencil on her own brother's desk and 'subtly' signaled across the classroom. "Look how close they're sitting." She wrinkled her nose, gaze fixed on the twins huddled shoulder to shoulder over the one textbook in between them._

_Not only did her own sibling turn to look, but the girl seated next to her did as well. "I heard from someone in my second period that they were holding hands during dismissal yesterday."_

_"That's so-"_ ) 

Just like that, they'd managed to become the 'weird twins' of yet another school. Such a fate, no matter what they did, was seemingly inevitable in the end.

* * *

Fourth period, in Kori's opinion, was a special sort of Hell of its own. 

Then again, the same could really be said for any of the other classes he wasn't fortunate enough to share with his twin without being too far off from the truth. Regardless, Gym still managed to be the most intolerable of all.

Kori had never considered himself to be particularly athletic; at least, not in the way most of the other boys in his class had proven themselves to be. He would like to think he was active _enough_ ; he and Kyari would play outside if the fickle weather would allow for it. But even then, there was a significant difference in traipsing about the neighborhood with his sister and attempting to play volleyball with a bunch of other kids he _knew_ were none too fond of him. ' _Attempting'_ being the keyword; so far he'd had little success, in between the thousands of times he'd either accidentally hit the net or somehow ended up serving all the way to the opposite corner of the gym or had quite literally just dropped the ball entirely. His teammates weren't exactly shy about letting him know of his shortcomings, either.

"What's _wrong_ with you?" One of his teammates, a boy named Dominic, groans a few decibels louder than he ought to when Kori once again manages to miss the ball entirely.

The kids on the other side of the net begin to snicker, and Kori's gaze finds itself glued to the varnished gym floor. He knows it's a question he's not meant to provide an answer to, but he also knows he'll never hear the end of it if he doesn't. A downcast " _Sorry_ ," is all that he can offer, and judging by the exasperated look he receives, it's evident that it wasn't satisfactory in the slightest. 

"Just move if you don't even know how to play." Another one of his teammates, a boy whose name he doesn't even fully know _(Chance? Chase?)_ pipes up with a wave of his hand, irritation heavy in his tone as well.

Kori's not sure _where_ exactly he's meant to move in the first place, and he knows better than to try and ask. He takes one cautious step to the side; he thinks, maybe, this is where that kid was motioning to. At this point, the laughter from the other side of the net has died down, replaced with the feeling that suddenly all eyes on this side of the gym are on him, and certainly _not_ in a good way. He wonders if it's always been so hot in here. The searing yellow of the overhead lights feels much too bright. 

" _Oh my god_ ," Dominic exclaims, pushing Kori aside all the way before he can even realize that the brunet is coming anywhere near him. The shock of it startles Kori so that it takes all the strength he can muster to keep himself on his feet. It's downright humiliating, and Kori figures he'd be more upset about it if such treatment wasn't honestly what he was used to by now. 

Even if he's used to it, the sudden sharp blow of a whistle from across the room indicates that their teacher is none too pleased about such behavior.

" _Hartwell!_ What are you doing?" Came the resounding bark, and no sooner had all the children whipped their heads around to look than the coach came to stand between the two boys.

The boy who had told him to move in the first place refuses to meet their teacher's gaze, and Dominic is obviously focused on the empty space beside the man. It's the first time Kori's seen any of the boys on his team look genuinely nervous, and maybe he'd be able to find more humor in it if he didn't know what would likely come from the unwelcome interference.

"He was in the way." Is the paltry excuse Dominic produces, and none too confidently at that. "We told him to move and he didn't."

"That right?" The teacher shifts his attention to Kori, as does everyone else on their side of the net. He shrinks under their stares, but manages to give a barely perceptible nod in response. Kori can only hope that's enough to get him to drop the matter. He doesn't want to be having this conversation any longer than he has to.

His wish is granted, but not in the way he'd hoped it would be. The coach draws his lips into a thin line and exhales, before pointing over to the other group playing on the other side of the room. "Hartwell, you go over there and tell Bailey to switch with you."

"Wh-" Dominic protests, eyes wide. "I didn't do anything!"

" _Go_ or it's a write-up. I'm not doing this today." The coach doesn't budge, but juts his chin in the other direction yet again. 

Dominic rolls his eyes but still finally does as instructed, albeit not without fixing Kori with a glare, and the teacher is gone just as quickly as he is. 

If the gym floor could open up and swallow him whole right now, Kori doesn't think he'd be too opposed to it. If nothing else, that would at least let him get out of class for a while.

* * *

Kori can't stand to be in the locker room for more than a second. He's already none too pleased with having to be packed in the room like sardines with a bunch of kids he hardly knows or likes, but the overpowering miasma of what feels like a thousand cans of Axe only serves to make the experience all the more unpleasant. That's generally why he tries to change out of his gym uniform as quickly as he possibly can; that, and the fact that it ensures that he can get out of this class the _second_ the bell rings. 

He takes everything out of his locker as per usual, with the exception of his phone. He doesn't know anymore, how many times some kid had taken it as a 'joke' whenever he'd set it down on the bench for just a second, but it's been enough at this point that he doesn't care to repeat the incident. All he wants to do is get in and out. He thinks that something he's perfected by now; he always manages to get into his normal clothing in just a minute or too, really.

He checks the time on his phone before tucking it into the pocket of his jeans; _11:46_. Just two minutes before class would end and lunch would begin. Fine by him. He'd finally get to see Kyari again. He wondered briefly how his sister was holding up, but he figured she was likely doing just as well as he was. He'd heard her rant a time or twenty about how the girls in her Chorus class acted, and the reviews were everything but favorable— _bitches_ , all of them, apparently. But maybe there was a little more hope for his twin; he certainly thought she could hold her own far better than he could.

He shut his locker at last, turning to grab his other things he'd put behind him. He slung his backpack over his shoulder with ease, one foot practically already out of the door, before realizing that the bench looked unexpectedly clear of anything else. More specifically, unexpectedly clear of the hoodie he _knew_ he'd set down there before. He'd had no intention of putting it on—he only carried it with him because his third period classroom was _unbearably_ cold most of the time, even if the weather outside and everywhere else was the polar opposite, and it would more often than not end up taken by his sister anyways given her lack of any tolerance towards the temperature in the cafeteria—but he also hadn't expected anyone to up and grab it out of nowhere. 

The befuddled expression on his face evidently seemed humorous to some, for his focus was quickly pulled by the snickers of three other boys. Dominic and the other two boys on their time, because of _course_ it was.

Kori weighs the possibilities in his mind. He's _not_ stupid; it would take an idiot to not tell that they obviously had something to do with it. Kind of hard not to notice when they were staring directly at him and laughing. It's not in any of their hands, though, so chances are it's been stuffed in a backpack or locker, though he can't wager a guess at whose exactly. It just isn't worth it. He's never been one for confrontation, and today isn't going to be the day he starts. Not even for his CDG hoodie, plain gray with its trademark heart, though it was one of his favorites among the multitudes he owned. He could live without it if it meant avoiding trouble, couldn't he? If he really wanted it so bad, he supposed, Dad was meant to go to Japan again in a few weeks anyways. He could just ask him to pick up another then. 

Whoever had it could keep it, for all he cared. Kori turned to leave the locker room for good this time, the buzz of the bell he'd desperately needed finally reverberating throughout the school. 

* * *

When the bell rings, Kyari is out of the Chorus classroom like a bat out of Hell.

She has no qualms about pushing through the sea of girls that gather at the classroom door when it comes time to leave. Not that she ever had any, really, but she has all the more reason to do so now. None of the girls in this class had any sort of regard for her. She'd found out as much on several occasions, whenever the teacher made her help him pass out sheet music, with the way they'd pinch it from her hands as though she was a leper they were terrified to come into contact with, or the way that they'd silently inch away from her whenever they all rehearsed standing on the risers, all side eyes and poor excuses at murmurs that they were somehow _so_ sure she wouldn't notice.

 _Whatever_. She hated all of them just as much as they hated her, so it wasn't like she cared. 

But at least she'd be getting a momentary reprieve from dealing with all of that, now that lunchtime had finally rolled around. That gave her something to look forward to. She had a _lot_ to discuss with Kori, as per usual. She'd found out about another really cool game she thought they should get into when they'd been allowed to go on their phones at the end of the period, and he wasn't going to _believe_ what she'd overheard Kylie Anderson saying about her even though she had no right to talk when she couldn't hold a note to save her life and was never going to get into any of the advanced Chorus classes, _and_ she'd found out last minute that they were apparently gonna be having a quiz in Science later so she _hoped_ he'd been taking notes better than she was. 

All of that, and then some, kept her mind occupied as she walked the distance from the Performing Arts building to the gym. It was a ways away, across campus, and the cafeteria was honestly closer to the building she was in, but the twins always preferred to walk together. Kyari, especially, was itching to finally get to talk to someone.

Kyari knew her brother like the back of her hand; spending their entire lives side by side tended to have that effect. So when she saw him waiting in his usual spot, expression entirely dejected, she'd already figured something had gone wrong, more so than things usually did.

"Hey," Kori greets her with a meek smile, life slowly coming back to his features. "How was fourth?"

"Same as yesterday. _Sucked_." Kyari speaks matter-of-factly. "Guessing yours did, too?"

As expected, Kori grimaces. "I don't wanna talk about it."

If Kori had hoped to drop the subject with that remark, it had been entirely counter-productive. The twins told each other _everything_ , never once sparing any details. If it was so bad that Kori didn't feel like talking about it, then Kyari had all the more reason to need to know the specifics now. 

"Why?" Kyari pries, eyeing her brother with wary concern. "What happened?"

Kori doesn't bother to hide his reluctance to answer that. In the same vein, Kyari's own expression is unchanging. She knows that he knows by now that she doesn't let up so easily. Even if he wants nothing more than to drop the subject, she'd be the last person to even entertain that idea.

At last, he comes forth with the details. "Some guys in my last period took my hoodie." Before his sister even has time to react, Kori quickly interjects. "It's not a big deal, so let's just go."

If that last statement had even reached Kyari, she'd disregarded it completely. The girl was already seeing red, and she didn't even know for sure who'd done it. Like that mattered, though. "Who?"

"Kyari, we're gonna be late. The line's long-" Kori attempts to shift the conversation as best as he can, but he's come to find that his sister is having none of it.

"Just tell me." Kyari insists. "Kori, _please_."

"Dominic from English and some of the other guys, I don't know-" Kori no sooner speaks those words than he comes to regret them. A discernible anger crackled in green eyes that now scanned the crowd around them, before finally catching on a familiar face. "Wait-" Kori pleads, reaching to catch his sister by the arm, but it was far too late. Her mind had already been made up, and she had locked on the boys like a heat-seeking missile. 

" _Dominic!_ " Kyari shouts, marching over towards the group. It catches their attention, both as intended and not; she can already see what looks to be amused grins forming on their faces. She pays no mind to that—she's got bigger problems here—and merely holds out a hand in the boy's direction. "Give it back."

"Give _what_ back?" Dominic responds with a chuckle, gaze occasionally shifting back to his friends who were obviously enjoying the show. 

"Kori's jacket. I _know_ you took it." Kyari huffs, repeating the motion of extending her hand out yet again. "Just give it back."

"I don't have your stupid brother's jacket." Dominic refuses, shaking his head. "Go away."

"Yes, you do!" Kyari's anger only continues to surge by the minute, and she finds that her voice has unconsciously become much more shrill than it had been before. " _Give it back!_ "

" _No!_ " Dominic, purportedly no longer enjoying himself, attempts to walk away from her. "Leave me alone!"

Kyari had had just about enough of him. _Fine_ , if he wouldn't hand it over, she'd just have to get it back herself. So goes her thought process as she reaches out to grab Dominic by his backpack, tugging to undo the larger zipper. 

"Get off!" The boy protests, shoving Kyari back as hard as he could. " _Weird bitch!_ " It certainly was more than enough force, for the girl topples backwards onto the concrete, using her hands to break her fall.

" _Stop!_ " Her brother's voice abruptly rings in her ears, sounding so far away and yet much closer than she'd thought it would be. It matches the clatter of frantic footsteps running up behind her, and she wants more than anything to tell Kori to leave her be, she knows what she's doing and can handle this just fine and doesn't want him getting hurt. But she just can't. She can't make herself say anything to him right now. 

Her hands sting like crazy, and she's absolutely certain that she's scraped them, _bad._ But the pain, it seems, has temporarily vanished to the back of her mind, usurped by a blinding fury.

" _Asshole!_ " She's up and swinging at the brunet without so much as a second thought, managing to topple the boy just as he did her. She keeps at it, doing whatever she can, trying her best to pull at _that fucking backpack,_ trying to ignore the fact that her hands hurt so bad that she could _scream_ and so does him pulling at a fistful of her hair and attempting to knock her off with closed fists.

A familiar hand tugs at her, trying desperately to pull her back, but to no avail. It takes a much more significant amount of force, a grasp she's entirely unfamiliar with this time, to bring her back to reality. 

Neither Dominic's disheveled appearance, nor the sudden presence of a teacher she doesn't even know standing above the children she's just managed to pull apart, are enough to make her realize how severe the situation has become. 

Looking down at her hands, almost unrecognizable when littered in such a tremendous amount of cuts, does clue her in some.

But she takes one look at her panicked twin, all dried tears caked onto fair skin and fresh tears still coming like a downpour from gray eyes, and what little composure she'd just managed to regain is gone. 

* * *

The twins have come to find that despite being far from small, the principal's office manages to feel much too claustrophobic.

The nagging, audible ticking of the clock on the wall in moments of silence. The arid stuffiness of the room itself. The never-ending laundry list of questions they'd been bombarded with the second they'd come through the door. The twins wanted nothing more than to get out of there as soon as they could.

Kyari has caught herself, multiple times, almost peeling at the tape that held together the bandages that were wrapped around her hands. Kori, likewise, pulls at the strings of his hoodie which had found its way back to him, at the behest of the principal who had indeed found it in Dominic's possession after closer inspection.

To their relief, the principal clears his throat to speak once more. "We're- _ahem_ -done here." His expression had remained unwavering the entire time the twins had been before him, and it was no different now. He had a stern and steely tiredness to him, as though he'd been here before. "You can go out and wait now."

The twins nod and rise from their seats, pulling on their backpacks that lay slumped on the floor. Kori holds the door open for his sister as they make their way out, seeing as she's not really in much condition to do so herself. It's all she can do to offer her brother a feeble smile in return, despite the fact that she hardly feels up to the task. Truth be told, neither of them feel up for much of anything right now.

The front desk, in sharp contrast with the dour stillness of the office they had just left, was abuzz with the clicking of keyboards and the chime of phones. One of the women working there, somewhat older than all the rest, takes one look at the twins and frowns, going to show the lines along her face. "Sit." She speaks in a tone that offers little room for objection, as though they'd bother fighting her on that anyways. "I'll call your parents."

They can just barely make out what she mutters as she flips through a notebook, probably filled with names and numbers. " _Smith, Stoddart, Talluto, Tanaka- Huh. Figures._ " 

Kori is the first to speak when the twins are seated, looking over at his sister. "Are you cold?" He tugs at his jacket, noting the appearance of goosebumps atop her arms. "I'm not, really. You can have it if you want."

"No." Kyari gives a wry laugh in response. "I didn't fight for that hoodie just to take it from you." She lifts and waves one bandaged hand for emphasis. Kori can't help but laugh as well, because _hey, she does kind of have a point there_ , but such amusement is brief before it's overshadowed by concern.

"Does it hurt?" Kori questions with a furrowed brow. He wants to reach out, instinctively, to take her hands in his own, but he knows better than to try. By the looks of it, that would undoubtedly do more harm than good. "Like, _bad?_ "

"Well, yeah." Kyari shrugs dismissively, as though it were a normal occurrence. "But I'll be okay." She leans back in the plastic chair, sighing. "Are you? Okay, I mean."

Kori thinks it an odd question to ask, given that he's got his jacket back and is sitting here without so much as a scratch while his sister seems to be in _much_ worse condition. But he knows what she means by it, though he really wishes he didn't. He feels so silly about it now; crying his eyes out like a _baby_ because his sister got into a fight. "Ye- yeah." He nods, nonetheless. "That was stupid. I just got freaked out." His gaze, purposefully, is anywhere but on her. "I shouldn't have dragged you into all that."

" _Please._ " Kyari snorts. "I wanted to kick his ass anyways. He deserved it."

"But you got hurt." Kori shakes his head. 

"I'm _fine_." Kyari asserts, gingerly placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Besides, at least now we get a break from school." Less a break, more like three days out of school suspension for Kyari and Kori for starting a fight and 'getting involved' in it, respectively, but something was something. 

Kori knows there isn't much sense in arguing with her; his sister has always been the more willful of the pair, and to challenge her certainly wasn't a task for the faint of heart. It's all he can do to offer as much of a warning as he can, though how much he feels she'll genuinely take it to heart is debatable. " _Still._ You could've gotten hurt even worse. Next time, just let me ask Dad for another one or something." Sometimes, he seems to be the only person she listens to. Other times, it's nobody at all. "You can't just fight everyone who picks on me."

It is a cardinal sin, almost, to tell Kyari she can't do something. She looks almost offended that Kori would even say so. "Yeah-huh, I bet that I can." She fires back, her tone on the borderline of serious and joking.

The twins banter idly for a while, the troubles of the day seemingly forgotten, or at the very least detached from enough to allow them to find some sort of humor in it. But their chatter stops short at the sound of clicking heels along the tile floor. They already know what to expect, and they aren't surprised to see the blonde woman in all her usual opulence, pearls atop a gray blazer and a sleek black dress, clutching a matching purse tightly in one hand. 

No sooner had the twins risen from their seats than they were greeted with a startled gasp. " _Oh!_ " Precisely painted lips curl into a frown the second their mother's eyes catch upon them, darting from the obvious covered wounds on her daughter's hands to her son in his entirety, scanning him over for any injuries to mirror his sister's. "Sweetheart, what-" Marianne takes Kyari's hands without a shred of reluctance, examining what she can of the scuffed palms closely, tracing a finger over the bandages. "Are you _okay_ , Kyari?"

Kyari can't stand the way her mother looks at them, all sad green eyes and put-on concern for her _poor, pathetic little darlings_. She doesn't want to be babied like so; she thinks she'd rather keel over and die than have anyone walk by and see this over the top display. " _Yes._ " She yanks her hands back brusquely enough to make her mother blink. "Can we just talk about it later?"

"Alright..." Marianne acquiesces, though she seems none too happy to be dropping the subject. That is, until she turns her focus to tending to Kori. She smooths out rumpled blond hair with a manicured hand, gaze fixed so intently on her son that he shifts under it, clearly uncomfortable. "Kori, honey," Her voice is cloying, thick with an overt tenderness, "What about you? Are you alright?"

"Mhm." Kori nods in the affirmative. "I'm fine, Mom." 

Marianne grabs a pen sitting on the desk, swiftly printing her signature on the sign out sheet, and offers a smile to the woman seated behind the desk. "Have a nice day." She says, ever polite, before turning back to her children. The mother and children walk out of the building, Marianne having one hand on each child's shoulder. 

The walk to the car is deafening in its silence. Kyari _had_ said she'd talk to her mother about the issue later, but neither of the two dared to say a word. If his talkative twin has nothing to say, Kori certainly doesn't either. The three cross the parking lot, the twins wasting no time in climbing into the back seat and placing their backpacks down. Still, there has yet a single word to be spoken. Kori looks to his sister; she looks back at him. Their mother, seated in the driver's seat, stares straight ahead for a minute. At last, she slams the car door shut and sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Kyari's eyes practically roll to the back of her head, and she reaches into the front pocket of her backpack, digging for her phone. Kori turns to peer out of the window, scanning the parking lot that is vacant with the exception of a few teachers' cars. 

"You two should know better." Marianne snaps suddenly, going to start the car. " _You_ especially, young lady."

If there was ever a time and place for such a statement, it certainly wasn't here and now. _"What?"_ Kyari glares indignantly in the direction of the front seat, taken aback at her mother's words. "Kori was getting bullied, Mom. That kid stole from him. What was I supposed to do?"

Kori, who thinks he wants nothing less than to rehash this conversation, keeps his eyes trained outside. A car passes by, then another, then another. Reminds him of this one racing game they'd played a while back. It had been okay, he guessed. Maybe they could play it again when they got home. That was, assuming Kyari felt alright to do so.

"You go and you tell a teacher or something, whatever you need to do. But you _don't_ just go off and start punching him!" Marianne finally turns to face her daughter, the same aggravation written across her face. "Good God, if I've had this conversation with one of you, I've had it with all of you. Sh- _Stuff_ like this, getting suspended from school for _fighting?_ It's ridiculous! It's not funny, it's not cute, and it's not acceptable. It stays with you for how long, and all because you got angry with one dumb kid who isn't even going to matter in the next ten years."

"Mom-!" Kyari protests, but her mother has already turned around, going to start the car.

"I _really_ don't want to hear it." Marianne cuts her off. "We'll be discussing this with your father later, just so you know."

Kyari's groan of vexation at that is partially muffled by the interjection of the radio, playing whatever pop songs were relevant that month. Anything, it seemed, to stop the conversation in its tracks. 

Kori turns away from the window once more, looking back over at his sister. His gaze is sympathetic—he mouths _'Sorry'_ and spares an annoyed, momentary glance towards the front seat—and it serves to soothe her some. She's glad Kori's here; it would be strange if he wasn't, and anything is better than being left alone in the car with _her_.

* * *

Dinner is rarely a whole family affair.

Schedules simply just rarely align to allow for it. Their father is out of the state, if not the country, more often than not. Their mother always has something better to do. Nova isn't against a sitdown dinner, but with the way Eli comes down for just enough time to grab a plate and take it upstairs, he evidently is. Star is hardly home before dark, and neither is Luna if her classes run longer than expected. The twins, accustomed to such a routine by now, normally take their food upstairs as well, to be enjoyed sparingly alongside a game of their choice.

But on some occasions, it can happen. And it's just the twins' luck—or lack thereof, really—that it happens to be tonight. 

The sound of scraping forks across porcelain plates fills a room where no one cares to do much talking. There's always an oppressive tension to family dinners, something unspoken to seal lips shut except for when they absolutely needed to part. Their parents occupy each end, not even so much as glancing at one another, but eyes vigilantly looking over their young. Sometimes there's a hushed whisper, a giggle into a covered hand by one of their middle daughters, that ends before it has ever truly begun. Their older son is off in his own world, picking at the meal in front of him with eyes downcast. Their oldest daughter glances about the table just as her parents do, but lacking the stoicism their stares hold.

As for the twins, ever one another's mirrors, neither of them seem to particularly have an appetite for what's been set in front of them. The twins haven't been picky eaters in years, and it's not as though the meal is so elaborate or unusual as to put them off of it; it's just pasta. But they'd had just about enough of the day as a whole, and eating dinner was no easy task with the looming threat of yet _another_ argument hanging heavy in their minds. It was inevitable after everything that had happened. If they didn't end up arguing with their parents, their parents would simply take the opportunity to fight among themselves. Neither option sounded particularly appealing, but there were no others. 

Kori took feeble bites of his food every so often, if only to appease enough to avoid the questions that would surely come if he didn't. Kyari, meanwhile, had resolved herself to pushing her food about her plate, wondering if she'd finally gain any desire to actually eat it this time around. They supposed they'd just stay there for however long it took for the table to be mostly empty; it was doubtful that anyone really wanted to stick around for that long.

Because of the silence that had hung over the table, it caught everyone's attention when their mother chose to speak. "Daichi," Marianne addressed her husband, who looked to her as if to ask what she wanted. "I think the twins have something they need to talk to you about."

"Hm?" Daichi finishes chewing, briefly dabbing at his mouth with a napkin, before responding. His expression is questioning, and he looks back and forth from his wife to his youngest two children. "What's this about?" 

Marianne looks to the twins expectantly, as though she's managed to push them into a corner. Maybe she has, in a way, but not in the way she thinks. Kori suddenly can't get enough of his meal, with the way he continues to nibble at it as if nothing were happening, and Kyari, trying her best to wipe the stunned look off her face, merely gives her father a shrug. With no actual answers from either of his children, Daichi turns his attention primarily back to his wife, in all her exasperation.

"The children got into an _altercation_ at school today, with some other boy." Marianne explains, giving the both of them a pointed look. "They won't be allowed back at school until Friday." 

" _Kori_ fought someone?" Comes a snicker from the other side of the table, where Star eyes the twins incredulously. "Bullshit!"

Marianne's glare briefly ends up directed towards the silver haired teen, before she seemingly decides it isn't worth it. " _Kyari_ attacked a boy because he took Kori's jacket from him, to be exact." She clarifies, shaking her head. "It's a good thing that boy didn't end up seriously hurt."

"Kids _,_ " Daichi chides, features worn despite the conversation having just begun, "Why would you do something like that?"

Another lecture from their mother is already the last thing the twins need, but their father, too? The situation couldn't look any worse for them. " _Ugh,_ I already said I was sticking up for Kori." Kyari reiterates, dropping her fork on her plate out of frustration. "Besides, he came at _me_ first!" She gestures with her injured hands, and seeing Nova across the table, doesn't miss the wince in the dark haired girl's sapphire eyes. 

"If she was just defending herself-" Their oldest sister begins to interject on their behalf, but it's hardly effective against their father continuing with his end of the lecture anyways.

"Kori, if this was a problem between you and that boy, then why didn't you resolve it with him yourself?" Daichi prods, obviously disappointed in his son's lack of a will to do so. Kori's used to such disappointment by now, even if that doesn't make it much easier to bear. His sons always seem to fall short of the man's expectations. "You're her brother; you're meant to look out for her, not let your sister get hurt trying to fix your problems."

If Kori hadn't felt guilty enough about that as is, he did by a thousandfold now. "I know, but-" He finally lifts his eyes from his plate, looking towards his father for a brief moment, before finding he doesn't have it in him to maintain that gaze for much longer. 

"That doesn't mean _you_ should be getting into fights, either." Marianne elaborates, even though that was hardly what her husband was trying to imply. He goes back to what he was doing; if Marianne wants to handle this, then so be it. "But you're at that age, sweetheart. You've got to toughen up. You can't hide behind Kyari forever." She speaks in an oddly condescending manner for what she's trying to tell him, but if she's aware of that, she makes no effort to correct it.

That much doesn't go unnoticed by Kori, but far from being too annoyed by it, he's still more nervous than anything. "I wasn't-" He stammers, and he can't help but look to Kyari for some sort of help. Try as he might, he never fares well in situations like this. What his mother just said resounds in his mind again; is he hiding behind Kyari _now?_ He isn't sure he even wants to know.

"Are you even _listening?_ " Kyari gets the message and jumps in before her twin, or her parents, can even get another word in. "Kori didn't _make_ me do anything! He didn't even want me to!"

"It's true, I told her not to." Kori mumbles, trying to help their case in any way he can. His explanation is hardly even audible, but he hopes it still counts for something. "But she was just trying to talk to him. She didn't mean to get in a fight with him."

"It doesn't matter what she _meant_ to do or not, Kori. It's about what _happened_." Once again, Marianne finds herself speaking to him as though he were a much younger child. "Anyhow, you don't just accidentally get into a fight." She continues, turning her attention back to her daughter. "Why go over there in the first place?"

It feels like everything Kyari says goes in one ear and out the other with her mother, and at this point, her frustration comes to a boiling point. "It's not like I went up and just punched him, Mom!" She argues. "I _told_ you, like three seconds ago, he came at me!" Her mother must suddenly be some kind of blind, she thinks, if her obvious injuries seem to mean nothing to her. 

"I heard you the first time." Her mother deadpans, taking a sip of her drink. "But, tell me, why on Earth would someone just go after you unprovoked?"

Kyari, truthfully, doesn't think that she has ever hated her mother more than she does right now. She should've figured this was how the conversation was going to go the moment it even started. Of course her mother doesn't believe her, she never does. Even when she tries so hard to talk to her, it never matters in the end.

" _Because everyone at school hates us!_ " The sudden spike in volume is enough to make everyone flinch, but Kyari hardly notices, vision blurred by angry tears. She hates her mother for not listening to her, hates her father for never even trying. " _Nobody there likes me or Kori and I try to tell you guys and you never listen!"_

Funnily enough, if Marianne's aghast face is anything to go by, it seems Kyari's words have reached her at last. Granted, not in the way she'd hoped for, at all, but they still had. Daichi, who was still doing his best to tune out what was going on around him, wordlessly sets his fork down and rubs his temples. His eyes flit to his wife, to his daughter, and to the watch around his wrist. 

Her mother's expression is so reminiscent of Kyari's own, holding the same crackle of anger in green eyes. " _Kyari Catherine Tanaka, I am not going to sit here and let you talk to me or your father that way!_ " Marianne threatens, but there's hardly any weight to it. All of the children had come to learn by now that their mother hardly followed through on anything, from punishments to promises.

" _Well, I'm not gonna let you send us back to that school!_ " Kyari retorts, face gone a cherry red. She knows she's much louder than she needs to be; alright, she knows she may or may not be _screaming_ at this point, but she doesn't care.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Marianne scoffs. "You're a _child_. That isn't your decision to make."

"Mom," Nova places a hand on her mother's shoulder, an attempt to placate her, "She's upset, and so are you. I think we should just let the twins go up-" 

"Novalie, this doesn't concern you." Marianne rebuffs, holding a hand up to silence her. "This is about your brother and your sister and how maybe, the next time, she should be a _little_ smarter and, I don't know, tell a teacher instead of getting the both of them suspended over something so small and should know her place as _an eleven year old who has no right to yell at her own mother!"_

"You _don't_ care about _me_ , and you _don't_ care about _Kori!_ " Kyari drops back in her chair, arms crossed, absolutely seething. 

"Oh, don't give me that!" Marianne shakes her head, speaking through gritted teeth. "We give you everything! You go to a good school, you get nice clothes and nice things, and all I'm asking is that you two stay out of trouble and you can't even do that!"

" _You're not even-!_ " With that, Kyari has had enough. She pushes away from the table, nearly knocking over her glass in the process, and stomps upstairs without so much as another word. Kori feels his heart sink at that, and it's all he can do to keep himself from immediately running after her. 

If the room had been cold and silent before the argument happened, it was downright morgue-like now. No one wanted to be the first person to say or do anything after all _that_ had just happened. Eli, plate having long gone untouched, made no attempt to stand up and take it into the kitchen. Luna, having also suddenly lost her own appetite, could only look to her sister next to her. Star, sitting still with a hand over her mouth, was trying her hardest to suppress a laugh. Nova couldn't decide whether to look in the direction that Kyari had gone in or to look to her parents, neither of which particularly felt like looking at any of their children now. 

"It's like you can't even _talk_ to the girl without it becoming a problem, Daichi." Marianne complains indignantly. If she has any concern for her daughter, her face doesn't betray such an emotion. Neither does her husband's.

"I know. I know." Daichi acknowledges, voice weary. "And I'm not saying you did anything wrong. But maybe, next time-"

Kori doesn't have it in him to sit there for another minute. He doesn't know how he'll react if he hears one more thing; maybe he'll just outright _snap_ , just as his sister just had. All of his thoughts right now find themselves centered around her, the pure, unbridled rage he'd last seen on her face, how unbearably lonely it must be for her right now, most likely up in their room with nothing but her own thoughts. The ache of guilt returns to him once more; she'd looked out for him no matter what the cost, and he was too much of a coward to be there for her now. He can't let himself do that to her.

Just as his twin had done, Kori finds himself rising from the table and heading towards the stairs, giving no explanation to his family behind him.

* * *

Kori is, in a way, both surprised and not at how easy it is for him to get into their bedroom. 

Given how upset Kyari was, anyone would've expected his attempts to be met with nothing more than a locked door. Had it been that way, he wouldn't have blamed her. But the twins know one another's minds so easily now; she had to have known he'd follow her upstairs. He'd follow her anywhere and everywhere. He always had. 

The sight of his sister curled up underneath her flowered comforter brings that ache right back to the forefront of his mind. The telltale sound of sniffling, still audible through the thickness of the sheets, does little to help her flimsy attempt to cover up any tears. He knows his sister is hardly fond of the idea of being considered a 'crier'; nowadays, especially, she wants nothing more than to be considered _mature_ , and such displays of emotion had come to be deemed 'babyish' as a result. Still, there's little point in trying to hide if it's just the two of them in the room. He'd never make fun of her—he certainly doesn't think that he, of all people, has any room to—and she knows that. She has to.

"Kyari?" He calls, if only to make her fully certain that it's him, tentatively padding across the white carpet.

There's movement under the covers, a brief rustle, before the small figure emerges. Kyari sits straight up, face partially obscured by golden hair, hugging her knees to her chest. She uses one hand to push her hair back, revealing a red blotched face. He doesn't miss the way her eyes are rimmed with the same red when she looks at him, nor the way she nips at her bottom lip, blatantly trying to keep any new tears from falling.

"Are you-" Kori begins to ask, but the question trails off the second he actually thinks about it. _Such a stupid question,_ he mentally admonishes himself, _of course she's not good_. Even so, he takes a seat alongside his sister, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. At the very least, he wants her to know he's still there for her, even if he can't be of much help. That seems good enough for her, considering that she doesn't hesitate to lean on him.

"It's not fair." Kyari bemoans, watery. "It's not."

"I know." Kori can commiserate, though offering much of a solution is beyond him. What had happened was hardly unusual in their household, more of the expected norm than anything that shocking. Everyone knew that arguing with their parents, especially their mother, would get them nowhere at worst and another consolation prize at best. But that wasn't the kind of thing you voiced out loud when trying to comfort someone who was already that distraught. "Mom just gets like that-"

"Not just Mom. _Everything._ " Kyari blurts in a shuddering breath. "Everything's so messed up." 

For once, Kori wishes he didn't see what she meant, but he knows full well. Despite the worries that came so easily to him, Kori had always attempted to keep a brighter outlook on things. However, he could admit there was a difference between being optimistic and being blindly so. Their situation was far from ideal. Friendless outcasts who failed to meet their classmates' standards at school and couldn't even meet their parents' standards at home. At times, it really had come to feel like their entire world, however small it may be, was against them. But he doesn't want to leave his sister to wallow in her misery, no matter how real it is.

"Not everything's messed up." Kori tries. "Just some stuff. But it's okay; we can look out for each other, can't we? That's not so bad." 

Kyari looks at him like he's lost his mind, but it doesn't seem to come from a place of anger. "I got us both in trouble looking out for you." She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. Even so, she'd do it again in a heartbeat. That much is for sure. 

"That's just 'cause the school is dumb. So are Mom and Dad, sometimes." Kori insists. He earns a subdued, but still markedly improved, laugh at that. 

"Yeah, _sometimes._ " Kyari teases.

"Okay, maybe a lot." Kori relents, the grin creeping up on his face mirrored by his twin.

Kyari sits up, no longer leaning on her brother, and looks over to him. Her eyes are still somewhat bloodshot, but the light has returned to them anyhow. He'll take it, knowing his attempts to make her even just a little bit happier hadn't been entirely in vain.

"Thanks, y'know." Kyari states. "Just for... still trying to help back there, and everything now."

"You always look out for me." Kori speaks as though it's simply a no-brainer. "I was just looking out for you, too."

Even through all the loneliness of a world that didn't seem particularly fond of them, the twins would always have each other to rely on. That much was guaranteed. Maybe, in that case, they didn't really need anybody else. 


End file.
